After the Rift Was Sealed Part Three
by TheConduit
Summary: Mysteries are revealed ... but there is no greater mystery than love.
1. Chapter 1

Jonathan and Zedd had barely entered the edge of the forest when Jonathan exclaimed, "Wait! The girl! We have to make sure she's alright!"

They turned back and headed for the cottage. The porch was empty.

"Where did she go?" Jonathan cried, frantically searching the grounds around the cottage. He burst through the front door, but found no trace of her.

Zedd followed behind him. "Who is she, Jonathan? A friend of yours? Someone you know?"

Jonathan ran his hands through his hair. "In a way. As I was traveling to meet you, I came upon this house, and she helped me. I don't know her, not really, but there's something about her, something magical. Her eyes …" His voice trailed off as if he were describing a dream.

Zedd smiled and patted Jonathan on the back. "I'm sure she is beautiful. But don't worry, we'll find her. She couldn't have gone far."

Jonathan spun around to face him. "No, you don't understand! It's not just about beauty. Her eyes – they were like silver … and they seemed to glow when you looked at them. When I saw her, I wanted to stay, to look at her longer, but she told me to leave. Wizard, there's something about her … something you can _feel_, but not _touch_. I've never felt such magic in anybody, not even within _you_."

Zedd frowned and closed his eyes. "What did she look like, Jonathan? Describe her to me."

Jonathan described the girl, leaving no detail unsaid. Zedd raised his hand when Jonathan described her long, dark hair, opened his eyes, and looked toward the front door. Richard, Kahlan and Cara were just returning from their search for the elusive golden-haired Sister of the Dark.

Richard immediately sensed something was wrong. "What is it?" he asked.

Zedd looked grave as he spoke. "Brother Jonathan, I think we may have found our 'raven' … but it appears she's flown away."


	2. Chapter 2

Darken Rahl maneuvered the stallion deftly through the forest, avoiding the tangled masses of briars. He was a superb horseman, having ridden since his teen years, and although every fiber of his being longed to push the horse harder to reach his destination – the home of the beautiful raven-haired girl with eyes like quicksilver – he knew that doing so would probably hurt the beast, and he couldn't reach her without him.

Suddenly, he sensed he was nearing the cottage he'd seen in the vision. He looked around every tree and bush, as if the next one would reveal his heart's desire. He heard the sound of the brook and smiled as he removed his black hood. It would not be long before he'd see his destiny in the flesh … flesh that was delicate, like fine porcelain …

Shouts rang out up ahead. His smile faded. He knew the voice – his enemy, Zeddicus Z'ul Zorander, Wizard of the First Order. True, he had healed Darken of a Dacra's poison, but only out of necessity. He'd even said as much at the time.

Darken pulled up on the reins and dismounted, leading the horse to a nearby tree. He tethered him there, and crept to the edge of the clearing.

A battle between the Seeker and a very adept Sister of the Dark was ensuing. The Seeker and his crew – including a young, dark-robed scribe – fought valiantly against her, but she appeared to have powers far beyond any he'd ever known among the Sisterhood. Yet – she seemed familiar to him somehow. He knew for certain he'd never laid eyes on her before, yet the way she flung her Dacra, the way her eyes glinted …

He looked up quickly toward the cottage, and his eyes filled with rage. The raven-haired girl lay unconscious on the porch, a small trickle of blood flowing near her left temple. His fists clenched, and his body tensed in preparation to fight, but he stopped himself. If he revealed his presence now, it may prove to be disastrous. Despite the intense yearning to run to her and cradle her in his arms, he chose to wait and watch.

He did not have to wait long. Kahlan and Cara were backing away from the Sister, while a stream of Wizard's Fire flew from Zeddicus' hands. The Sister raised her hands to block the fire magically. Darken wished silently to himself that the fire would hit its mark and burn the evil wench. Almost as if his thoughts took control of the fire, the edge of the plume flew back downward, burning her hands. The Sister ran off toward the north woods, and the Seeker's group chased after her.

Darken saw his chance. He wondered if the power of teleportation had been given back to him. He focused his gaze on the ground near the girl and concentrated, exhaling a soft sigh. Before he knew it, he was at her side. He knelt to look at her.

She was truly beautiful. He touched her wound lightly, gently nudging away a stray curl that had fallen across her angelic face. Darken wanted desperately to stay there to soothe her, to hold her to him, but he knew he didn't have time. The Seeker's crew and the scribe would soon return – or worse yet, perhaps the Sister of the Dark.

He scooped the girl quickly into his arms, and she sighed softly, her arm winding around his neck. Her head pressed against his shoulder, and Darken could feel her warm breath upon his neck. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he closed his eyes to concentrate on the woods where he'd tethered the stallion.

In a flash of white, they vanished without a trace.


	3. Chapter 3

The fire spat and crackled in the deepest part of the cave. Marianna stood before the flames, chanting ancient verses in order to summon the Keeper. He had told her several times – as well as several other Sisters of the Dark – that he hated their useless, pitiful prayers to him, yet she felt compelled to inform him of the great powers she now seemed to possess.

_Marianna!_ The voice boomed like thunder within her head. She knew at once that it was her master.

"Keeper, I have great news to tell you about my quest."

_Did you find her yet?_ he growled.

"Yes, Keeper. But the Seeker came, and –"

_Idiot! Useless twit! When will you learn to move with stealth?_

Marianna smiled, then vanished. "Right now, my lord."

Silence from the flames. Had Marianna been a wise girl, she would have thought it to be a sign of surprise.

Marianna reappeared and held her hand beside the fire. "Not just that, my lord Keeper. I was wounded by the Wizard Zeddicus' magical fire when the Seeker came. But now I am made whole, in no part of my own."

_Ahhh … so the Creator's Stone of Tears did indeed grant you new powers ... of protection, restoration and healing!_

A low, contented growl emanated from the flames, and Marianna held out her chest in pride as the Keeper's voice purred …

_Good … there may be hope for you yet, Marianna … Now go, and get me that girl …_


	4. Chapter 4

Anna's head felt cold … and wet. She touched her aching forehead, and found a compress had been applied. She took it off and tried to sit up, but a terrible queasiness overtook her, and she plopped back onto … mink?

"Where am I?" she said, trying to feel for the edges of the bed, which was huge and obviously not her own.

"You are in one of the palaces of the former Lord of D'Hara, my lady," came a reply from a man standing to her left. His voice was rich and melodious, and for some reason, Anna had passing thoughts of wild honey mixed with cinnamon.

Anna kept her eyes closed, afraid of frightening him away. "How did I get here?" she asked.

"A ... servant of D'Hara happened upon you after you were attacked. He brought you back here to be healed, as there appeared to be no one else in the vicinity that could assist you."

"What was his name? I'd like to thank him. For his kindness."

The man crossed the room and stood before her. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible, my lady, as he has returned to his previous duties. However, I shall be glad to pass along your gratitude to him in the field … miss?"

"Anna."

"Anna …" He smiled as her name passed his lips. "What a beautiful name. A beautiful name befitting such a beautiful girl."

"Thank you," she said, and blushed.

He reached for her. If only he could touch her … if only she would allow it! It had certainly felt like destiny when he'd held her close to his heart just a few short hours ago. What he would do, what he would _give_, for just one brief kiss …

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No - he would not take this girl by force. In the vision, love had washed over him like a cascading waterfall … love that emanated from the girl that lay before him. Love for _him_. He wondered how long he would have to wait to feel that love again … and how long that love wold remain, once she found out his true identity. His brother did not believe in prophecy, and it had served him well these few years. The man considered, then suppressed a thought that perhaps it would be wise to do the same.

_No! She is my destiny ... _

"I shall take my leave now, Miss Anna. A healer of great talent has been brought in for your convenience. I shall have dinner brought to you, if you so desire it, and perhaps we can talk further."

Anna's stomach still churned. "Maybe."

The man opened the door latch, and had almost gone out the door, when Anna exclaimed, "Wait!"

He turned to her. "Yes, Miss Anna?"

Anna smiled. "You never did tell me your name."

The man hesitated a moment and said, "Richard. My name is Richard." He looked up briefly at the Rahl family crest mounted on the wall above Anna's bed. Walking out the door, he latched it shut behind him, then went to find Grakla.

Anna couldn't be sure, but she thought she'd heard a faint _swish_ of robes as he departed.


	5. Chapter 5

Jonathan plopped down on a nearby couch, the blood draining from his face. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been! Just a day ago, he had been face-to-face with a part of the very prophecy he'd discovered – and he'd even felt it– but he hadn't put the two together. He slumped and put his head into his hands.

"Don't blame yourself," Zedd said comfortingly. "You couldn't have known for sure. That's the downside of prophecy … most of the time, you don't know what's been placed before you for some time, if at all."

Jonathan shook his head. "I'm completely useless."

Cara shoved her Agiels back into their holsters. "Much as I'd love to join the pity party, I think we need to try and find out who that new Sister was, especially since she's apparently gotten herself some powers we've never seen before."

"I agree," said Richard. "I was under the impression that most of the Sisterhood were out of the picture, with the Keeper sealed up in the Underworld. But maybe he's found a way to make them more powerful."

Kahlan chimed in. "When that girl Mara was taken by the Sisterhood, they all gave her their Han, and she seemed – at least on the surface – to be the Creator. Do you think maybe a few of them have done the same for this one? Or something similar?"

"No," came Jonathan's voice, beneath his hands. He looked up at Zedd. "I think I know who she is … or at least, who she _was_."

All eyes were on the young scribe as he raised his head and continued. "When I was a young boy, before I was given to the Brotherhood to raise, I grew up a few towns over from here. There was a girl there, whose name was Renae. She was bright and talented, and lived with her grandmother. Her parents had been killed by soldiers of Darken Rahl. We were the best of friends. I know it sounds silly, since I was just a 10-year-old boy at the time, but I was truly in love with her. If I hadn't gone to the Brotherhood, I wanted to marry her one day." His eyes steeled. "That girl looked just like Renae … but I can't bring myself to believe she'd _ever_ serve the Keeper!"

Zedd's eyebrows pinched as he considered the possibilities. "Perhaps, she was taken … like Mara?"

Jonathan's voice grew quiet. "Perhaps … but I still don't believe it."

Richard straightened. "Well, it looks like we're going to have to split up and find the two of them, regardless. Kahlan and Cara can come with me and try to find this Renae, if that's who she really is. Zedd, I think you and Jonathan should try and find the other girl. She'll probably need healing."

They headed out. As he shut the door behind him, Jonathan took one last look at the home of the silver-eyed girl, and wondered how he'd allowed himself to miss the signs …


	6. Chapter 6

Grakla's chamber was not what one would consider a 'lair.' In fact, the room – high up in the palace with an east-facing window, was, for the most part, quite pretty in contrast to its occupant. It was furnished with flowered drapery, simple but elegant lamps, and a small dark writing desk and chair. The only hints that this room housed a sorceress were a large set of shelves upon which dozens of jars were stored, a mortar and pestle, and a large pentagram painted in red upon the floor. Otherwise it was quite normal.

Darken took the stairs to her chamber two at a time. Anna's head wound seemed to be less severe than he'd first thought, but he didn't want to take any chances.

He opened the door and barged in. Grakla sat in the desk chair, combing over a spellbook. She looked up at him and arched her eyebrow.

"And to what do I owe this visit, Lord Rahl?" Her voice sounded as dry as sandpaper.

Darken whisked across the room, grabbing Grakla by the wrist. "I need you to heal someone. Now." He tried to yank her from her seat, but surprisingly she couldn't be budged.

The old woman's eyes narrowed. "The wound I can heal. The blindness I can not."

Darken blinked. He hoped the old sorceress hadn't noticed. "Blindness? What blindness?"

Grakla turned back to her book. "The girl's been blind since she was a child. Mostly due … to _you_."

Darken sneered. "What are you talking about? I've never seen her before the vision. How could I possibly –" He stopped himself short, realizing that the girl was obviously a victim of his previous reign, somehow. _Of course_ he was responsible. How could he _not_ have been?

The old woman chuckled. "Your memory serves, eh? Good. Perhaps it will keep your decisions sound when using your new powers." She shot a glance at Darken. "I take it you have used them already?"

"Why do you bother asking me, woman, if you seem to know the answer already?"

"Oh, no particular reason, my lord ... other than an old woman's need to chat with _impressionable youth_." She grabbed up a shawl and stood. "Well, what are we waiting for, my lord?"

Darken was aghast. In the past few days, a slight change had come upon the old woman, the most profound coming today. She seemed more brash, more confident … and somehow, less _old_. He watched her leave the room, shook his head, and followed her out.

Ironically, each were thinking almost the same thing about each other. In a few minutes, when they'd arrived at Anna's chamber, Darken knocked on the door, and Grakla, standing behind him, smirked. Only a year ago, the former Lord of D'Hara would have just entered without such courtesy. _What a great change in such a short time_, she thought to herself.

"Come in," came the reply behind the door. Darken opened the door and the old woman went in. Darken then followed. When his eyes saw Anna, a slight smile graced his lips.

Anna heard the door open and looked toward the doorway. "Who is it?" Her eyes were closed, but her head followed the two as they made their way toward the great bead on which she rested. Darken thought she looked exquisite, propped up among the many silk-covered pillows and mink blanket. _The only way she could possibly be more perfect would be if she were in the red robes of the House of Rahl_, he thought to himself.

"Richard? Is that you?"

Grakla shot an inquisitive look toward Darken, who returned it with a very obvious "mind-your-own-damn-business" one.

"Yes, miss Anna. I have brought you the healer, as promised."

The old woman shuffled to the bed and sat on the edge. Then she looked at Anna's wound and said, "Not to worry, my child. It won't take but a moment, and you'll be good as new. Just lay back and relax."

Anna did as she was told. Grakla's hands hovered above Anna's forehead as she chanted an ancient spell of healing. Just as she'd promised, the wound disappeared before Darken's eyes.

When she heard nothing more from the old woman, Anna said, "Is it done?"

Grakla's eyes were locked on Anna. Darken couldn't be sure, but he thought her face held a look of recognition – as well as a deep sadness he couldn't place. Although he knew the healing ritual was over, he wanted the old sorceress to answer for herself. He tapped Grakla on the shoulder and motioned to Anna. Grakla immediately snapped back to reality.

"What? Yes, yes my dear. All done."

"Thank you," Anna said. "I am indebted to your kindness … I seem to be in a few people's debt lately." She laughed. "Which reminds me, Richard … have you been able to send word to the man who rescued me?"

Another steely glance shot from Grakla to Darken. He ignored it.

"Why yes, miss Anna. He has been advised of your most gracious thanks. He wishes you well." Darken straightened and put a firm grip on Grakla's shoulder. "Now, I believe the healer has another patient to see … _don't you_?"

Grakla gritted her teeth, but got up from the bed anyway. She knew how to take a hint. Now she hoped Darken would as well.

"As a matter of fact I do, Richard. I'll be on my way now … I'm sure that the two of you have many things to talk about, the young miss being so far away from home with no friends or family." Then she shuffled off toward the door. Her glare seemed to Darken to be glued to her face.

When she'd left, Darken said, "May I sit down, miss Anna?"

Anna sat up. For the first time since she'd awakened, she didn't feel queasy at all. "Why of course, Richard!" She straightened her dress and turned her head in his direction.

Darken leaned closer to her. "Now that she's gone, you may open your eyes. I know what they look like. I've seen them once already, and despite the initial shock, I've become quite accustomed to them. They are quite lovely."

Anna blushed and opened her eyes. Darken looked into them and thought he could almost see his reflection in their glowing silver-hued depths. He smiled at her. "Very lovely indeed," he concluded.

Her eyelashes fluttered. "I didn't know you'd seen my eyes before, Richard."

Darken, ever a master at thinking on his feet, replied, "Why yes. When the man who saved you first saw you, he mentioned your silvery eyes. I didn't know if I should believe him, but when you slept, you opened them briefly, and I saw them for myself. I have to say that they are the loveliest eyes I've ever seen." An overwhelming urge to kiss her suddenly washed over him, and he reluctantly beat it back. He had just about cleared the thought from his mind altogether, when a loud growl came from Anna's stomach. They both laughed, and Anna blushed again, this time from embarrassment.

"Didn't you say something about dinner?"


	7. Chapter 7

Tracking a missing girl was one thing, but tracking a missing girl on an empty stomach was quite another matter altogether. And they'd only been at it an hour. Zedd tried his best to hide the rumblings in his stomach from Jonathan … but failed miserably.

"Do you need to take a break, Wizard Zeddicus? I do have some food left in the saddlebag." He took out an apple, and suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for having failed to protect the silver-eyed girl.

Zedd pretended not to notice. "A break sounds wonderful, Jonathan. I thought you'd never ask."

The two sat down on a fallen tree, eating in silence. After a few bites, Zedd decided to take matters into his own hands.

"You know," he said between crunches, "even Richard hasn't been right every time, and he's the Seeker. You shouldn't beat yourself up like you are."

Jonathan looked up at him, eyes brimming with hot tears. "That's all well and good, but you didn't lose the girl – _I_ did. I was right there a day ago, and I let her shoo me away instead of following my instinct, like Brother Marcus would have me to do."

Zedd grinned. "I've known Brother Marcus for some time, my boy, and believe me, he'd've done about the same when he was your age. Why do you constantly compare yourself to someone with decades more experience?" He stood up and motioned to a soft patch of clay, halfway covered with leaves. "Now, you see that spot over there?" The young scribe nodded. "Someone with no tracking experience would say, 'That's just some dirt,' but someone with decades of tracking experience would say it's –"

"Hoofprints!" Jonathan scrambled to his feet to get a better look.

Zedd, embarrassed, pretended that was his point all along. "So you see, Jonathan, you're coming along nicely already." He dug a hole in the ground with his toe and dropped the apple core into it, seeds and all.

The young scribe was ecstatic. "Well let's get going! Let's see where they lead to." He turned back to Zedd, whose face looked sullen.

In an almost inaudible voice, Zedd said: "I know where they lead. To one of Rahl's palaces. We've got to find that girl, and fast. For her own safety."


	8. Chapter 8

Richard, Kahlan and Cara searched high and low for the golden-haired Sister of the Dark. They found her tracks leading into the forest, as well as some behind a tree, but then they just seemed to disappear into thin air.

"I don't get it," said Kahlan. "Where is she? Where did she go?"

"I'll check up ahead a little further," Cara said, taking an Agiel out of its holster. She knew that Richard and Kahlan hadn't talked much in the last few days, which was odd. She also knew that what would inevitably come either with or without her departure would be an hour or two of lover-talk, which would be completely unbearable. She decided to choose the "without her" option, and walked briskly a few hundred paces.

Once Cara was out of earshot, Kahlan broached the topic that had been plaguing her. "Richard, what's wrong? Why haven't you been talking to me?" Her sky-blue eyes looked at him questioningly. He wanted to answer her, but Zedd was right – it wouldn't be wise or safe to talk with anyone about his newfound ability until they'd had sufficient time to test it.

"It's not that I don't want to, Kahlan … it's that I can't." He looked away from her and pretended to shift his sword. "All I can say is that Zedd doesn't think it's a good thing for me to let loose on my thoughts and feelings right now." He turned and put a fingertip under her chin. "You know he wouldn't do that, wouldn't ask me to keep something from you – of all people – if it wasn't absolutely essential. Right?"

Kahlan tried to smile. "Right," she said with a sigh.

Richard held out his arms, and the two of them embraced. "I love you," Richard said, and kissed Kahlan's neck. She melted into his arms. "I love you, too," she replied, holding him tight.

Cara's voice called out, cutting into their moment together. "Hey! Lovebirds! Get over here, I found something!"

Richard and Kahlan ran to meet her as fast as they could. Cara told them that she'd spotted a cave ahead, and that she'd smelled a faint odor of smoke.

"I think you may have found her hiding place, Cara." Richard smiled and arched an eyebrow at Kahlan. "After all, bears don't make campfires." Kahlan stifled a smile and shook her head. Cara just rolled her eyes at the two of them, then cocked her head.

"Listen, both of you!"

Deep within the cave, a female voice floated upward. It seemed to be carrying on a conversation … with itself. Richard and Kahlan readied their weapons. Cara had already unsheathed her other Agiel.

The three crept stealthily down the cave's long passageway until they could see but not be seen by the Sister of the Dark. Cara kept her eyes fixed on her, jaw tightening in preparation for battle. Kahlan tapped Richard on the shoulder and motioned toward the fire. The Sister was reaching into the flames, but not being burned. Richard would have thought that was strange enough, until he saw what she drew out of them … a shiny Dacra.


	9. Chapter 9

Darken excused himself reluctantly from Anna and called for her dinner to be brought to her chamber. When a dowdy servant girl appeared with a tray, he insisted on carrying it in to her himself. He opened the door and carried the tray to her bed, laying it gingerly upon her lap.

"Dinner is served."

Anna suddenly looked flustered, and her hands didn't budge an inch. "Is there something wrong, miss Anna?" Darken asked.

"No, I mean yes – well, I may as well come out and say it. I'm blind. I can feel the tray on my lap, but if you don't tell me where the food is, or _what_ the food is, I'm afraid I'll make an awful mess."

Darken's face softened. For a moment, he remembered how vulnerable his younger sister Jennsen had been. Anna seemed to be just as vulnerable, if not moreso.

He cleared his throat. "Miss Anna, I would be delighted to assist you. May I have the honor?"

Anna brightened. "Of course you may, Richard."

Darken cut her food into tiny bites, feeding each to her gingerly, offering her a goblet of deep red wine and blotting her mouth with a napkin. When she'd finished everything, the sun had gone down.

But he didn't notice.

He took the tray and placed it next to the bed. Then, taking her softly by the arm, he said, "Would you like to explore your quarters? They're nearly the finest in the palace. There is only one room better than this one, but it's occupied."

Anna felt like being clever. "By _you_, right?"

Darken shot her an "are-you-sure-you're-blind" look but then shook it off. It had to be a lucky guess. And besides, he was _Richard_, not Darken Rahl. "Why yes, miss Anna. However did you guess?"

Anna shrugged. "Well, when you left before, I heard the swishing of your robes. I supposed you were most likely a wealthy man, and it would seem that a wealthy man would keep the best room for himself. I am right, aren't I?"

He bit his lip, his eyes cast downward. _I would give you everything I own, everything I am if I could hear 'I love you' from your lips_, he thought. "Yes my dear … I am the wealthiest man here, and the best room _is_ my room. But for now, let's discover yours." Anna scooted onto the edge of the mink-covered bed, and then onto her feet. Darken smiled, thinking them exquisite and tiny compared to his larger, booted ones.

They took their time wandering around the room. Darken vividly described each and every piece of furniture and decoration to a clearly intrigued Anna, who hung on his every word as she made mental notes of everything's location.

When they'd come full circle, Darken walked Anna to the large fireplace on the far side of the chamber, and sat her down on a huge, burgundy chair, the same color as his robe. "Miss Anna, I was wondering … if you would care for some conversation before retiring?" He closed his eyes and hoped she would say –

"Yes! I would, actually." For once, Darken was glad she couldn't see him … it was infinitely easier to hide his relief that way.

He got up and started to make a stack of wood for the fire, piling kindling, then larger chunks of wood on top of one another. He tried to light it the "old-fashioned way," but when it drove him to distraction and he was about to let fly a slew of curses, he decided just to give in and make it magically. Before long, the blaze was burning nicely, and Darken joined Anna, sitting in another chair to her right.

"You know," Anna said after a few moments of silence, "the healer wasn't right. I do have a family."

Darken smiled. "Tell me about them."

Anna's face fell. "It's not a 'them.' Not anymore. It's just me and Father now."

He reached over and patted her hand. "My dear, I am … so sorry for your loss."

Anna shook her head. "It was a long time ago, when I lost my brother Danny. He had been obsessed with defeating the tyrant Darken Rahl that he got carried away with learning spell after spell … eventually, one backfired on him, and he died." Bright tears rimmed her eyes.

Darken was unsure what to say next. Part of him was happy that the fool hadn't succeeded – after all, he had been Lord of D'Hara, and true or not, he hated the label of 'tyrant.' But another part of him felt Anna's fresh pain at the memory of her brother's loss.

His voice grew soft. "Is that what happened to you? A magical accident?" Anna nodded.

He cleared his throat. "And what of your mother? Or have I asked too much?"

"No," she said, and looked away. "Father and I lost her shortly after Danny's death. Father became so over-obsessed with keeping me safe that he didn't allow me outside the house for a while … even going so far as to tell the neighbors and villagers that I'd died as well. You see, he told me the tyrant Darken Rahl would kidnap pretty young girls for all kinds of sordid trysts, and he wanted me to be spared. I never even got to say goodbye to Mother – Father told me that he had to take care of the funeral arrangements himself, and that I was not to leave the house under any circumstances."

_Aha! So that's why I didn't know her_, he thought to himself.

Anna continued. "I began to hate Darken Rahl for what he did. If he hadn't been born, Danny and Mother would still be alive. Oh, I curse him even now that he's dead! I hate him – truly, I hate him. It's his fault that they both died, and it's his fault that I'm blind. I wasn't born this way, you know."

Darken's blood froze in his chest. He chose his next words very carefully.

"Darken Rahl wasn't, either."

Anna looked confused. "Wasn't what?"

"As you so aptly put it – 'born that way.'"

Anna's eyes narrowed, the glow softening and dimming. "What do you mean?"

Darken placed his elbow on the chair arm and rested his chin in his palm. "My dear, I mean exactly what I say. Darken Rahl wasn't born a tyrant. Tyrants aren't born, they're grown. And his father was very astute in the tyrant-growing business."

Anna's mouth dropped open. She shut it again and straightened. "But certainly he had his own choices to make. We all can say 'no' to evil, can't we?"

Darken looked at the floor. "I suppose. But when you're told day in and day out that you're to be replaced, and that a child that isn't born or even conceived yet will always be better than you, it tends to cloud the judgment a bit." He looked back at Anna. "Or, so I'm told."

"But the murders! All the lies and deceit! You can't tell me there's a defense to all of that."

Darken lifted a decanter off a small table situated between their chairs and poured a goblet of wine for himself. After a long gulp, he asked, "What would you say if you knew that Darken Rahl was betrayed and cursed by the Keeper?"

Anna scrunched up her nose. "I'd say it's just desserts. He belongs with him."

Darken shook his head. "No, no … I mean, as a child."

"A child, betrayed and cursed by the Keeper? Impossible."

"No, I'm afraid it's true my dear. When Darken thought he could do no more to garner his father's affection, he killed himself … damning his soul to the Keeper. The Keeper then tricked him, telling the young Rahl that he would enhance his wizard's power, as well as enlarge his kingdom, if he would just kill one person a day for him."

"By the Creator – Darken Rahl was … a Baneling?"

Darken's voice became soft as a whisper. "I'm afraid so. So you see, much of the fear and violence he created was done out of a sense of necessity, as well as desperation." He looked out the window at the stars. "I've often wondered at the fairness of it all. One brother is raised in squalor with a man who's not his father, yet reaps a childhood full of love, and everything he does turns to gold. The other is raised in majesty and splendor at his father's side, yet bereft of the same paternal love, and everything he does goes away, including his own life."

Anna bowed her head. "I never thought I'd ever feel sorry for Darken Rahl, but you've made quite an argument."

He smiled at her. "My apologies, then. I never want to argue with you, miss Anna."

She heard the smile in his voice and returned it. "Nor I you, Richard. You've been quite a good friend to me. I'd love to tell Father about you … I'm sure he's worried sick about me. He was supposed to come home from his travels on the day that … that …"

"The day you were attacked," he finished.

"Yes. Could you send word to him with someone? I can't imagine what he's going through, with me missing from home."

"Consider it done, my dear. And what would your father's name be, by the way?"

"Aron."

Darken made a mental note of it. "And was he the one who blessed you with such a lovely name?"

Anna smiled again. "No, I was named by my mother. Father called her Grace, but her given name was Grakla. Father always said that Grace sounded prettier, and it was easier to pronounce." Her eyes grew soft. "My mother was a healer, and it was she that taught Danny all he knew about magic. She was a lot older than Father when they married. They called us their 'miracle children.'"

Darken's head shot up. His jaw tensed as he considered confronting the old woman within moments, but he reconsidered when he saw Anna's angelic grin. "I would have to agree with your father, miss Anna."

"About which part?"

"Both, I suppose. Grace _is_ easier to pronounce, and you are most definitely a miracle. I know you've done wonders for the owner of this fine palace!"

She blushed. Then, try as she might to stop herself, she yawned. "Oh dear," she said.

Darken stood up and took her arm in his again. "It's quite alright, my dear. You've had quite a trying day. Come, let me lead you back to bed so you can rest some more." They walked across the room, with Anna holding on to the crook of Darken's elbow. When they reached the bed, Anna climbed in and sank into the soft, warm fur. It was like lying on a cloud.

Darken took her hand in his and kissed it gingerly. "Good night, my dear. I shall see you in the morning. Sleep well."

Anna smiled. "Good night, Richard. I will. And you, too."

She heard the swish of robes again and the door latch before floating off into a deep sleep full of incredibly pleasant dreams.


	10. Chapter 10

Cara's face wore a familiar, sinister expression. The three of them had the tactical advantage, with there being no visible back exit to the cave, and she knew it. Now, it was time to let that Sister of the Dark know it, too.

She kept to the shadows, her eyes never leaving her target. Richard and Kahlan stayed a few paces behind, on the other side. They would provide a distraction … and then Cara would strike with both Agiels while the Sister was otherwise engaged.

Cara lifted her hand slightly and gave the hand signal. Richard and Kahlan sprang into action, while she snuck around the Sister's back. The sister wielded and then launched her Dacra at Richard, who always seemed able to _thwack!_ it away with his sword. _Didn't these women ever learn?_ she thought to herself, and got into final position.

Kahlan, blades in hand, joined Richard and kept the Sister busy with a series of parries and thrusts. She kept an eye open for Cara's second signal. A nod. She nodded back.

Cara moved like lightning, planting the tips of both Agiels squarely in the Sister's back. She screamed in agony, and fell to her knees. Cara kept the pressure on her … ten seconds … twenty seconds … thirty? Surely she couldn't be this powerful!

Finally, a full minute later – what would have been an infinity to normal mortals, and would surely have ended in agonizing death – the girl collapsed. Richard pulled a length of leather cord from his vest pocket and quickly tied her hands behind her back.

The Sister's breaths came fast and shallow, and at one point she seemed to be choking. Kahlan pulled her to a sitting position, while Cara kept her Agiel at the Sister's throat.

"Who are you?" Richard asked.

"More like, _what_ are you …" Cara mumbled. Kahlan shot her a pointed glance.

"My name … is Renae. Please help me. I'm trapped in here … with a terrible woman."

"It's a trick," Cara scoffed.

"Only one way to find out," said Kahlan. She looked into the Sister's eyes, carefully reading the raw emotion therein. She shook her head. "It's incredible, but she's telling the truth. It's almost as if there are two people – two souls – in one body. I've never seen anything like it."

"Nor will you, ever again," the Sister croaked, a twisted half-smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. In a split second, the leather cord that had bound her hands snapped like string. Her Dacra seemed to fly into her hand, then into Kahlan's chest. Kahlan sank like a stone, blood flowing crimson from the wound into her crisp white Confessor's gown.

"Kahlan!" Richard screamed. He charged the Sister with the Sword of Truth. The blade glowed brighter than the very flames upon which it was forged.

While Richard fought the Sister, Cara pulled Kahlan to safety at the mouth of the cave. Kahlan whispered to her. "Help … you go help Richard."

Cara looked up and saw Zedd and Brother Jonathan running toward them. "Zedd! Come quickly! Kahlan's been hurt."

"Where's Richard?" Zedd asked quickly as he assessed Kahlan's wound, careful not to remove the Dacra buried deep in her flesh.

"Inside. I'm going back in to help him." She got up and looked around. "Wait - where's that stupid scribe?"

Jonathan couldn't see very well into the depths of the cave, and he hoped he wasn't too late. If this woman – this Sister of the Dark – was indeed Renae, he needed to know for sure. And if it wasn't Renae, he wasn't about to go quietly. He'd been too quiet already.

He reached inside his robe for his dagger.

The Seeker's grunts echoed in the cave as Richard swung the blade time and time again at the Sister. She had lightning reflexes … enhanced magic … and apparently, an extra soul, which made killing her a bit of a problem. What if this Renae was truly a good person, trapped – somehow – inside her own body with a Sister of the Dark? Despite his heart's pain at witnessing Kahlan's attack, and its insistence that he just finish the deed and be done with it, he held off, waiting for Cara to return. He heard footsteps behind him, coming closer.

"Thought you weren't going to make it back," he said between thrusts.

"Uhm …" was the only reply Jonathan could think of.

Then Jonathan saw her. Renae. The girl he had loved since he was just a boy. Dressed like a servant of the Keeper. He lost control and screamed.

"Renaaaaaaaaaae!"

The Sister looked up at Jonathan in a daze, as if he were speaking another language. Then she smiled, her arms dropping to her sides.

"Jonathan?"

Richard saw his chance. With the butt of his sword, he landed a quick blow to the back of her head. Renae's eyes rolled back, and she landed in a heap at Jonathan's feet.

"I take it, this is your friend after all?" Richard asked. Jonathan nodded.

"Let's get her tied up," Richard said. "Fast. And with something strong. I tried using just leather cord before, but she's too strong. It's almost as if the Sister of the Dark part is adding your friend's strength to her own."

Jonathan tried to wrap his mind around what he'd just seen … the girl he loved fighting the Seeker. And did Richard just tell him, 'Sister of the Dark … _part_?'

"Uhm, Jonathan? A little help would be nice."

"Your belt!" Jonathan exclaimed. "It's stronger than cord."

Richard removed his belt and quickly secured Renae's hands for a second time. He checked and double-checked to make sure the knots held.

Cara appeared from nowhere out of the darkness. "Kahlan's alive, but we'll need to find some powerful magic to get that Dacra out of her without killing her." Richard nodded and sprinted for the cave entrance.

Cara looked at the golden-haired woman lying unconscious on the floor of the cave, then at the scribe. He was staring at Renae, rocking back and forth slightly. "Come on," she said, patting his shoulder. "Let's get your girlfriend out of here before she does any more damage."


	11. Chapter 11

_It was a dangerous thing to deceive Lord Rahl._

His sapphire eyes glinted with rage, and his hands clenched at his sides as he descended into the dungeon rooms below. The old woman was going to come clean, and not just soon … NOW.

Two Mord' Sith stood sentry outside the dungeon doors. He took a breath and steeled himself before entering the antechamber. It simply would not do to let emotion reign free right now. He needed answers, and Grakla was going to provide them. "A cool head and a colder heart" had proven to be the rule whenever extracting information, Anna or no Anna. For all he knew, _she_ could be in on this charade as well.

He darted a glance at the Mord' Sith, who opened the doors for him. As he made his way down the darkened stone tunnel to the main torture room, he stopped short.

Sitting atop a table, cleaning under her nails with the edge of one of his favorite daggers – was Grakla. True, her hair was darker, her skin finer and her posture infinitely better than before … but Darken could never mistake her. Oh, she may _look_ younger … and _act_ younger … but she still emanated a distinct aura of things ancient and better left undisturbed. She smiled up at him. "Why hello, my lord. Were you looking for me?"

He took another breath. The first one had quit working when he saw her cleaning her nails with his dagger.

Grakla hopped down from the table like a teenager, her smile never leaving her face. "Uhm, my lord?"

"Don't you 'my lord' me, Grakla! Or shall I call you 'Grace'? I _demand_ to know what's going on, and in my own house!"

Grakla feigned surprise. "Why Lord Rahl, do you realize that's the first time you ever used my given name when speaking to me? Not 'crone,' not 'witch,' not 'sorceress …" She fanned her face with her hand in mock ecstasy. "Be still my heart," she added coolly.

"That may ring true yet, woman." He took a step toward her, but she didn't flinch.

"Oh, Darken Rahl … when will you ever accept that things aren't always what they seem? Sometimes, they're even _better_. You'll see."

He winced. "What nonsense are you spewing _now_, witch?" Grakla raised an eyebrow, and for a split second Darken suddenly recalled a tutor his father had gotten for him when he was seven. The one with the wart and the razor wit. The one who gave him nightmares, even in the _daytime_.

"Come with me," she said. Her words seemed to echo in Darken's skull. A moment later, they were in Grakla's chamber.

"Fifteen years ago, my son Daniel died in his quest to defeat 'The Great Tyrant, Darken Rahl.' He thought to do so magically, which was a poor decision on his part. Oh, he was an adept student of magic, but unfortunately in his zeal to learn great magic without being a wizard himself, he died in a terrible accident. The explosion also cost his little sister – my daughter, Anna – her sight." Darken couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard the slightest quiver in her breath before she continued.

"Her father was naturally furious. He made me leave, never to return. He blamed me for the boy's impetuosity, for his death, for Anna's blindness. And perhaps I was – but I hold no more blame than _you_, my lord. Wars are never fought where there are no enemies to be found." She reached for something behind one of the jars on the bookshelf. Darken instinctively reached for a weapon, but came up emptyhanded.

He looked up at Grakla, who now stared longingly at a small framed portrait in her hands. "My son is gone, my daughter is maimed, and my husband must be dead. I can't imagine him leaving Anna to fend for herself."

Darken kept a wary gaze on her. "Funny, Anna told me _you_ were dead."

Grakla laughed. Darken instinctively recoiled from the unnatural sound of it. "Of _course_ Aron would tell her that! To him, I _was_ dead! And she was a child, who wouldn't understand … how better to protect the one child still living than to concoct a grand tale of disaster, where none are left breathing but _you_? Rather hard for a 'tyrant' to get his hands on a little _dead_ girl, eh? Or don't you agree?"

Darken considered her words carefully. He had no argument to put forth. What she said made perfect sense.

"I have promised her I would send word to her father that she is alive and well. She told me he was away on travels."

"Yes, that was his profession. Traveling merchant. He loved to come home with magnificent gifts for the children. You'll be sure to find him either at home, or driving a cart pulled by two mares. No doubt there will be something fine and elegant hidden away in the back for Anna. He had a box made for her when she was just a baby – a beautiful carved thing, with her name in silver letters on the lid." She sighed. "A rather ironic choice of color …"

A knock came at the chamber door. The two Mord' Sith sentries from downstairs came in, with Gerren leading them both. Grakla smiled and placed the portrait back on the shelf. "I take it you heard all that, ladies?"

Gerren sneered at Grakla, then turned to Darken. "What is your command, my lord?"

"Find the merchant, Aron. He should be at or near our guest's cottage. If he is alive, tell him that his daughter is alive and well, and bring him to me. If he's dead, bring me the box with her name on it."

Gerren and the other Mord' Sith were turning to leave when they heard Grakla's now-very-obnoxious voice calling for them. "What do you _want_, witch?" Gerren growled.

"Oh, nothing much, dearie … but if you don't want my husband to think that his daughter's in the clutches of the evil tyrant, Darken Rahl, you might want to consider a change of clothes before you head out. Big giveaway, those tight leather things." Gerren's jaw dropped when Darken – incredibly – nodded in agreement. She turned and left, the other two following close behind her.

"Go get something from that dowdy girl, she should have something for you!" Grakla called after them. She was still chuckling as she turned back to Darken. His face was like a stormy sky, his voice low and threatening.

"You had _better_ not be lying to me …"


	12. Chapter 12

Richard gently righted Kahlan in the saddle of Jonathan's horse. Zedd looked gravely at him. "I will do my best to get her to Brother Marcus. The Brotherhood's the only place I can think of that might have enough power to remove the Dacra."

He dropped his voice to a low whisper. "Don't worry, boy … we've been through worse before. I can keep performing smaller healing spells during the ride so she pulls through it alright."

Richard tried to smile, but he felt as if his heart were being wrenched from his chest a beat at a time. He took Kahlan's hand in his, and kissed the inside of her wrist. "I love you."

He thought he saw Kahlan smile at him as Zedd urged the horse forward through the woods and out of sight. Then he turned his attention to a certain red-robed Sister of the Dark.

Renae lay on the ground just outside the cave entrance. Jonathan had kept a silent vigil over her for the past half hour. Cara watched over both of them, just in case loverboy decided to take his lady-fair out for a walk.

"We're going to have to figure out how this happened," Richard said. "We're down two team members, which means we'll have to be even more careful from now on." He turned to Jonathan. "Do you think you can wake up your friend? Without waking whatever's inside of her, I mean."

The young scribe crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know," he replied, absently biting his lip. "I can try."

Richard patted the young scribe on the shoulder. "That's all I can ask of you."

Jonathan knelt next to Renae's head and stroked a few stray golden hairs from her forehead. He looked at her lovingly, longingly … Richard knew the look well. It was the same one he'd given to Kahlan every day he'd laid eyes on her.

"Renae," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"

The girl stirred. "Jonathan?"

Jonathan smiled brightly. "Yes! Yes, Renae. It's Jonathan!" He looked up at Richard and Cara, hoping to find a similar reaction, but all he got was concern and distrust. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What happened, my love? What's happened to my dear Renae?"

She sighed. "I tried to go … I wanted to see the light … it was so beautiful, Jonathan … but it shrank away, and then the monster came …"

Richard's brows creased. "The Keeper?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "He made the dark woman stay with me … I tried to stop her, but I wasn't strong enough …"

Cara stepped forward. "What's her name, this 'dark woman?'"

Renae's head lolled from side to side. "Mary … Mary …"

Richard shot a look at Cara. "Marianna. I should have known. She just doesn't know when to _stay down_."

Cara pursed her lips. "Yes, and now she's got a few more tricks to make sure she doesn't."

Jonathan looked desperately between Richard and Cara. "So how do we get this 'dark woman' out of Renae's body?"

A shadow appeared from out of the clearing, and a rather-obnoxious voice said: "I think I can help you, dears. The name's Grace."


	13. Chapter 13

Darken sat alone in his chamber in front of his fireplace. He hated waiting. And it felt like an eternity had gone by.

Gerren had left hours ago, flanked by the two other Mord' Sith, to try and find word on Anna's father. They'd gone in disguise, dressed in brown and green shifts that covered their perfect bodies about as well as potato sacks. He chuckled, remembering Gerren's half-questioning, half-resentful look as they rode out of the palace. It quite easily could have been a scene from out of a peasant comedy.

And then there was Anna herself. How long until he could hold destiny in his hands, to clasp it – _her_ – tightly to his heart, until the nightmares made of memories floated away … like the dandelion outside her cottage window?

He took a long gulp of wine from a jeweled goblet. The warmth felt good sliding down his throat. The numbing afterward felt even better. How long would he have to wait for oblivion to overtake him for the night?

A rap at the door caught his attention. He looked up, cocking his head to listen.

"My lord," a voice said quietly. It was Gerren. _Good girl_, he thought to himself.

"Enter," he commanded. The three statuesque Mord' Sith came gracefully into the room and knelt before him. "My lord, we've returned … with the box."

Darken willed himself to show no emotion. "The father is dead then?"

"Yes, my lord," Gerren replied, equally without emotion. "It appeared he was attacked. His neck was broken clean. He did not suffer."

"And the box?"

Gerren took the carved wooden box from one of the other Mord' Sith and held it up before Darken's sapphire eyes. "Anna" was carved into the lid, each stylized letter covered in silver. His fingertips brushed softly against each one, tracing them over the soft flesh of Anna's back in his mind.

He looked at Gerren. "That is all, Gerren. You and your sisters may go now. And I expect no interruptions for the remainder of the night."

"Yes, my lord." The three stood, turned in sync and exited Darken's chamber.

Darken wondered how he should broach the subject with Anna. Previously, he would have done so matter-of-factly, waiting for a howling scream of anguish to follow from the hearer. But he felt greatly for Anna – moreso, now that he knew she had something in common with him.

Oh, nothing so bad as a father who berated you daily … but a father who lied to you nonetheless, and who kept you in captivity.

He looked out the window at the stars. _Funny how little things can bring two people together_, he thought. _Everything is connected._

Placing the ornate box on a table beside his chair, he walked to his bed. He removed his robe, pants and boots and climbed in, sinking into the crimson-and-gold covered mattress.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He would tell her in the morning ... let her get some rest tonight.


	14. Chapter 14

_She was dancing. The world was bright and new, white fluffy dandelion seeds spinning in lazy circles with the warm summer breeze. Her brother Danny smiled and laughed as she careened wildly in the sunlight. Mother sang a gypsy tune, and Father clapped in both rhythm and praise. _

_She took a bow, but when she raised herself, the bright sun had been replaced with the coldness of the dark night sky._

_Before her stood a man dressed in white, who seemed to glow like the moon. His blue eyes sparkled like the stars. Dark hair flowed to his shoulders, the merest trace of a goatee surrounding his perfectly curved lips. He raised his hand to her, beckoning her to come to him. _

_She didn't resist. She couldn't. He was perfection. He was hers. He was … Richard._

_She placed her hand in his and curtseyed, and he smiled at her. He bent his head toward her, placing a kiss as light as a feather on first her hand, then her wrist…_

_She thought for a brief moment that she knew him. He looked familiar to her … like someone she'd seen before … in her past …_

_**No, it's not Richard! Danny's voice cried out to her from the darkness …**_

_She pushed the thought away quickly. All she wanted was to stay here with him. In the moonlight. Forever…_

Anna awoke to the scent of wildflowers. They were laying atop the pillowcase next to her, filling the air with the gentle aroma of summer. Anna smiled and wondered if Richard had brought them in to her himself.

"Richard?" she called.

A slight _swish_ of robes to her left. "Yes, miss Anna." She could tell from the warmth on her face and from memory of the previous night's tour that he was standing in front of the window.

"Good morning," she said, not sure why she was blushing …

"I've had your breakfast brought up for you. Will you be requiring any assistance?" He sounded distant somehow, as if he were trying to hide some deep emotion that he desperately wanted to convey.

Anna felt around the bed, quickly locating the tray and all the utensils on it. She shook her head. "No, I think I'll be alright," she said.

"Very good then," Darken said, still staring out the window. "I shall return to you shortly. I was hoping … that perhaps you would honor me with a walk in the garden this morning? The wildflowers are in bloom."

Anna smiled. "Why yes, of course," she replied. "I'd be delighted."

"I can have one of the maids bring you something clean to wear, as well as some fresh water and towels … And then, perhaps you could tell me more about your family?"

"That would be wonderful," she said. "I'd love to."

"Then I shall see you in an hour, miss Anna. Until then." She heard his heavy footsteps quickly cross the room to the door.

"Oh, and Richard? Perhaps you can tell me more about … you know … _him_."

Darken's eyebrows creased, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. "Darken Rahl, you mean?" he asked softly.

"Yes," Anna replied, and a thoughtful look spread over her face. "I've been thinking about what you told me last night, and I'd like to hear more about him. Father told me some things, but I want to know what he was _really_ like. His story seems very sad … and _intriguing_."

Darken felt for the door latch, fumbled it, and found it again. "I shall be honored to tell you more, miss Anna." The door opened and shut again.

An hour later, after she'd eaten, washed and changed, she heard a knock at the door. "Come in," she called.

Darken entered the room. Anna stood at the foot of the bed, dressed in a royal blue dress with periwinkle trim. The maid had helped her to pull her hair back in two silver combs, which exposed more of her neckline. She was smiling, and her silver eyes, though blind, seemed to look right into him. His mouth went dry again.

He cleared his throat and approached her, taking her arm delicately and placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as he had done the night before.

"Shall we?" she asked, and the two of them headed slowly down the long staircase that led to the ground floor. Anna held the rail, and Darken made sure to watch her feet carefully, lest she fall. _How strong he is_, she thought to herself as she held on tightly to his muscled bicep.

In a short time, they exited the palace and walked into the morning sunlight. Anna's smile never left as she closed her eyes and turned her head to the sun, letting the warmth cover her face. Darken had the passing thought that she, too, was like a wild flower in bloom …

He led her through the garden. The variety of aromas surrounded them both in an intoxicating perfume. _Could this day be more perfect?_ Anna thought to herself as Darken described each and every color and shape of the blossoms.

Soon, they came to a bench situated in the center of the garden. Anna slid her hand into Darken's and rested her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she said softly. "I've never had anyone do this for me before."

Darken's jaw tensed slightly. "Never? Not even your family? Your … father?"

Anna shook her head, which she still rested on him. Her raven hair smelled of night-blooming jasmine. "No ... I mean, _Danny_ was always nice to me. My brother, you know." She smiled. "I think you would have liked him, Richard. He was so witty and smart. He really knew how to make people laugh."

Darken raised his eyebrows when Anna started to giggle. "I see he still can," he said.

Anna sat up, her head turning slightly toward Darken. "Yes, I suppose that even now, he can."

"And how do you remember your brother?" Darken asked. For a moment, he was glad she couldn't see him. The sincerity of his question reflected in his eyes. He never knew his brother, other than in prophecy or in battle. And even when they _weren't_ fighting, conversation and comraderie never seemed to happen between them. He really wanted to know what it was like to have one as a _friend_ …

"Well," said Anna, "when we were young, he and I would occasionally go with Father on short trips to the village, and it seemed that whenever we got there, it was time to say the Oath of Allegiance to Lord Rahl. Danny knew, since I was so small, that I would probably get bored at kneeling and reciting the _real_ words like everybody else, so he wrote _new_ ones, and before long we'd both be giggling. Of course, he made sure the soldiers didn't hear us, or the words to the 'new' oath … You know, we probably would have both been _skewered_ if they had."

Darken found he couldn't control his curiosity much longer. He had never laughed much as a child, or even in his whole life – for that matter, he'd never had much of a childhood, _period_. Darken suddenly found himself wanting to laugh – _right now –_ even if he had to do so vicariously through the memories of the beautiful young woman at his side.

"Tell me … these 'new' words to the Oath that your brother wrote."

Anna giggled and began to recite:

"_**Bastard Rahl, lie to us.**_

_**Bastard Rahl, pee on us.**_

_**Bastard Rahl, you wreck us.**_

_**In your light we die.**_

_**In your mercy we are helpless.**_

_**In your wisdom we all grumble.**_

_**We all think you're a pervert.**_

_**Our lives are poor!"**_

Anna continued to giggle. Darken, however, sat stock-still for several moments.

"Are you alright?" Anna asked nervously.

Another moment passed with no reply from him. Then, suddenly, it came … Darken let out a loud guffaw and tried to keep himself from doubling over. Several servants poked their heads out of windows, both curious and a little afraid at the same time.

"A pervert!" he giggled. "Who pees on people! Haha!" He slapped his knee with his free hand, allowing laughter to flow out of him like a river suddenly freed from its dam. When he finally finished, both his sides hurt. "Ow," he grumbled, and rubbed them.

He looked over at Anna. Her head was turned toward him, and she seemed to be smiling at him. "You know, I've got more," she said, and arched her eyebrow wryly.

Darken wiped an unexpected tear from his eye. "Oh my dear, I'm not sure I'd survive much more of your brother's wit … perhaps tomorrow." Then he rubbed his sides again.

Anna's next words soon brought him back to clarity. "Tell me about Darken Rahl some more. How did you know him? Did you know him well? Why didn't he just tell someone about his curse, instead of doing all those evil things … the murders and everything?"

Darken tensed and clenched his jaw. Well, he _had_ promised to tell her …

He closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. "My dear, Darken Rahl felt, even as a child, that he was utterly alone in this world. His mother had died giving birth to him, and of course his father seemed single-handedly bent on his destruction. If and when the prophecy about the Seeker came true, his own brother would become his sworn enemy, and would be hailed a hero ... whereas, he himself would be a villain. He was –", his voice caught in his throat, "_afraid_, and knew not which course to take, so he took the path of least resistance … the path of violence and fear … the one which would assure him, at least on the surface, of the love and adoration of thousands." He paused. "Well, perhaps not your _brother's _adoration, at any rate."

Anna gasped and slapped Darken lightly on his chest, giggling. He soon found himself laughing again.

Moments passed. Darken placed his finger under Anna's chin, tilting it upward so he could look into the silver depths of her eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, closing his eyes and slowly brushing her lips with his own, once … twice. He fought to stay focused when he heard Anna's breath catch. He brushed a stray curl from her neck, letting his hand linger to feel her pulse beating a staccato rhythm beneath his hand.

"_Richard _…" she whispered. The sound of his brother's name coming from her lips felt like diving into a frigid lake.


	15. Chapter 15

Richard stared at the strange woman, Grace. She was small, with dark hair and deep-set eyes that seemed to glint even in the sunlight. A gray, formless frock covered her from head to toe, and a black shawl was hung around her shoulders. She carried a wooden pipe in her hand, and puffed on it, blowing smoke rings over her head.

Richard blinked. Twice. It was impossible to tell if the woman was young or old.

He had pulled his blade, the Sword of Truth, from its sheath the moment he heard her voice behind him, and pointed it at her now. Jonathan, too, had reached for his dagger beneath his robe and held it in unsteady hands.

Grace looked at the two of them, nonplussed, and then past them at Renae.

"It seems to me, gentlemen, that your little friend there has an occupancy problem – too many souls in one body. You'd better get her to someone who can yank that evil one out, and right quick, too. Otherwise, you might run into a bit of trouble."

Jonathan glared at the woman. "How do you know all this?"

Grace grinned. "Oh, I read a bit here and there … and I can see the signs when magical things go bad. Lots of practice in that area. _Years_, even." Her eyes seemed to sadden, then sparkled wickedly as she turned her attention to Jonathan. She put her foot up on a low-lying rock and rested her elbow on her knee. "You've been doing a wee bit of reading yourself … haven't you, _Jonathan_?"

Richard saw Jonathan gasp at the woman's apparently secret knowledge, and took a step toward her. He raised the tip of his blade until it was mere inches from her throat.

"You will tell me what's going on. Right now."

Grace looked past Richard at Renae's unconscious form, and took another puff from her pipe. "It's a long story … and you don't have much time. Maybe you should just come with _me_, gentlemen."

Richard tipped the blade closer and arched an eyebrow menacingly. "Maybe you should just talk _quicker_."

The old woman grinned again, and for some unknown reason, Richard was reminded of spices and old linen. His eyes glazed over momentarily. Grace tipped the end of her pipe upward and pushed Richard's blade away effortlessly.

Behind her, an Agiel began to whine. Richard snapped back to full attention just as Cara cleared the forest edge.

"I believe that Richard asked you to tell us what you know, old woman. And I suggest very strongly that you _do_."

Grace closed her eyes and sighed. _Of course … a Mord' Sith. _

The old woman looked steadily at Richard. "You and the young scribe here are looking for a Conduit, no? Well I know where it is. But I won't just tell you, so you'd better tell the red nightmare here to get that ugly stick out of my face."

Cara smirked, but didn't lower her Agiel. "From where I stand, someone's already hit you with one. A couple of times."

Grace stuck out her lip mockingly. "Girly, I've already told you twice that we need to get a move-on. Now you want to listen, and gather that girl and your buddies here, or do you want to end up like your Confessor friend?"

Richard put away his sword. "Cara, it doesn't look like she's going to talk … at least not now, not the way we need her to. Maybe we just need to do what she says and follow her." He motioned to Jonathan to put away his dagger. Cara, however, kept her Agiel level with the woman's head.

Grace put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. Three large stallions the color of midnight poked their heads out from behind some trees. Cara hid her surprise, _but she knew for certain they hadn't been there before._

Jonathan climbed up onto the first, and Richard hoisted Renae up into his arms. The love and concern in the young scribe's eyes was almost tangible, and he suddenly felt a twinge of painful longing for Kahlan.

Richard mounted the saddle of the second stallion. Cara finally put away her Agiel and mounted the third. The old woman stood looking at the group, smirking. She made a clicking noise with her cheek, and a small gray mare seemed to appear behind them out of nowhere.

Grace climbed effortlessly into the saddle. "Can we go now, gang? We're burning daylight."


End file.
